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“Where we like to play.” His mind is there, not here. “Where I’m gonna play with you.”
He’s deranged.
“No.” I shake my grip, rattling his skull. “I’m the one playing now, Motherfucker.”
His neck squeezed in my grasp; my bicep tenses for this; it’s trained for this. It’s a matter of minutes and my call when.
“See how much fun this is, TJ? You thought pretty girls were only for fun, didn’t you?” My teeth clench with every fucking time men like him hurt someone. “We’re also for murder. We’ll kill you all.” The power in my grip, in my rage, it’s blinding. “This is real fucking fun, isn’t it?”
In one fast flash, Lucidity takes his eyes while he sneers, “None were as fun as him.”
It’s gone. My logic. My restraint. All I see is Redix while I let it possess me, while I let my deal, my revenge take the life from the man who hurt him. Who hurt all those women.
And this doesn’t hurt me.
Not at all.
I don’t care what happens to me. If my soul is damned, I squeeze harder, choking with both hands now. If I lose my mind too, it can go.
As long as those women have justice, as long as Redix doesn’t hurt anymore.
TJ and all my pain, all my tears, Redix’s scar, his battered face, his strong heart, his love and fight that never gave up for me, I’m doing this. For every woman TJ hurt. For Redix…we’ll finally be free.
I don’t even hear it. The engine of the boat trolling up behind me.
“Magnolia Cade! Stop!”
That name. That voice. It could summon me out of hell. And it does. I glance up… and it’s Mama.
“He’s mine.” Mama’s standing on Dad’s boat. Dad’s steering, sloshing beside this boat while her eyes lock on mine. “He’s always been mine.”
My hands drop, my jaw too.
What are they doing here? How did they know?
TJ slumps over in the seat. He’s barely alive, but he doesn’t deserve to be. If life returns to his lungs, he’ll only hurt more people.
We know it.
And now I know it too.
What brought my parents back together? Me and Redix and justice.
My dad kills his engine and drops his anchor. He jumps onto my boat, his old one.
“I had Silas put GPS on this boat when I had to use it last. That’s how I found you.” He grabs my arms while I search for my reasoning.
“Listen to me,” he says, “this is for us to finish, not you.”
“But I need to—”
“No, you don’t.” Mama’s voice is calm. It always is, just like the iron in her eyes when her mind is made. “I needed to do this years ago, just didn’t get the chance, not wearing a badge.”
“You can’t—”
“Yes, I will.” You can’t argue with her. “This is my justice. Those boys? Those men now? They’re hurting other women. They hurt you, my baby, first. Then they hurt, Redix, my boy too. I love him like my son, and this is my job to finish.”
I’m stunned. I don’t know why. Dad was the vigilante, not Mama. But facing down death has changed her.
